Prisoner
by Stella Kirkland
Summary: You and I live in completely different worlds, separated by the fence. But even that won't stop us from loving each other.


They threw me into the dirty, damp cell with such animosity. What could I do about it? Nothing. If I thought that was bad, I would be mistaken. Each day, I was ill treated, lashed, and abused. I was about to go hysterical and give up on life. That is – until I saw you.

You, with that beautiful golden hair, that perfect hat, that beautiful dress. You appeared that fine day. The sun was shining brightly, and I had gone outside to get some fresh air. Despite being a civilized girl, you waved at me, smiling. Nobody had ever done that before. Stunned, I waved back. That was only the beginning.

We lived in such different worlds. Two different worlds that were separated by that fence. The prison and the outside world, which I had longed to be part of. I loved you. But I knew that someday, my execution date would arrive, and I'd never be able to be with you again.

But all we could do to relay our feelings for each other was sail paper planes. I requested for papers and a pencil, and wrote a letter to you. I folded it in a paper airplane and sailed it over the fence. It landed perfectly in your clean, welcoming hands.

I was barely able to live. They beat me a few times a day, and I was forced to live inside that dark, damp cell. Every day, I heard other inmates screaming in pain or hysteria, and I'd always hear those monotonous, lifeless voices.

"Another one dead. Take him out."

"Yes, sir."

But I had you. Our paper planes connected us – the two of us. Even though we were separated in our worlds by that fence, nothing stopped us. I'd see your smiling face every day, through the gaps in the barb wire fence. No words were exchanged – just a swift throw and the paper plane was over, sailing beautifully in that blue, blue sky. That plane didn't just mean exchanging thoughts with you. It meant freedom – the one thing I longed for most. I'd do anything to stand on the other side of the fence with you.

The plan worked fine, until that one day. I was sleeping quietly on the floor, clutching my precious paper planes. I was awoken suddenly when my door clanged open noisily.

"Well well, what do we have here?" It was the head officer in charge of the prison. He scoffed loudly at me. "What are those paper airplanes?"

He started walking towards me. _No… no… I can't let him see it…_ but he knocked me aside with no effort and snatched up one. He laughed, and then his face grew wretched. "Why have you been writing to my daughter? How has she been able to contact YOU? A filthy _prisoner._ Such a poor girl like that shouldn't talk to trash like you!" he screamed. In his eyes, there was perhaps a look of… sympathy? If it was, it didn't last long. He turned to the guards. "Move up his execution date, and burn all of those planes."

"No!" I ran towards the officers, and hit one in the face. But it was useless. They held me down. I struggled. I screamed, bawled, yelled. Nothing helped. The head officer gave me one disgusted look and crumpled all the letters she had written to me. After the ordeal was finished, I sat down and cried. I'd never be able to talk to you again. I'd die even earlier than before.

"You have an hour before your execution."

It was my execution day. My final day living. Three days after the discovery of the planes. Those memories fluttered in my head. You – you, who I lived to see. I didn't mind living this wretched life as long as I could write to you and see your bright smile. I grew almost hysterical. Tears flooded out of my eyes, and I banged on the door in silent agony. I remember those days were I'd run to the fence and see you, smiling at me. Always in that clean, dainty dress. Exchanging smiles – the one from your delicate face, and the one from mine, covered with soot and dirt.

_If I could only have one more chance… please… I know I shouldn't have been bad… give me another chance… to see her… _images flashed in my head. You were in front of me, your dress billowing gracefully in the wind. I wanted to reach my hand out and grasp you by the shoulder. We had so much to talk about, so many more conversations to continue… I wanted to talk with her. I wanted to ask you…

My head was filling with sweet memories. Those letters you wrote to me, in your elegant handwriting. I had never been happier than those cherished days. The thought and regret rebounded in my head, and I pounded on the dark brick wall.

"You, boy. It's time for you to leave."

A guard carrying a rifle entered the prison cell and dragged me out. Sunlight. Air. I couldn't help but think about you. At least I'd die in fresh air – no, I was wrong. The guard took me into another building. _Oh no… oh no… a gas chamber._ He shoved me in.

"Have fun." He remarked, with a cold and lifeless tone. Just like the rest of them. He shut the door. I heard a squeaking noise outside. He was turning on the gas. A hissing sound echoed through the empty room. I'd die alone. I'd never see you again. I felt my vision blur and fade. I lay on the floor, curled up. My last request escaped my lips.

"At least… I want to know… tell me… your name…"


End file.
